Resident Evil 2: Armageddeon outta here
by DisclosedBarrel
Summary: Sequel to Mortal Dilemma. Scott is dead. Claire and Parker are in danger. And the self-destruct system is counting down. Things just couldn't get worse... After this day, nothing will be the same. As the saying goes, armageddon outta here.
1. Obtaining the vaccine

CLAIRE REDFIELD (MONOLOGUE)

This assclown, Frederic Downing, just murdered Scott! Came out of nowhere and shot him in the back like a coward! Despite his questionable morals, he had a good heart and only wanted what's best for the ones he loved. Then, poof. He's gone. This guy is pure slime and has me by the neck, and I can't tell if he's in any way trustworthy.

I can at least be glad that we found Sherry, but she's not doing too well; she 's infected with William's embryo. I'd rather not know how that happened, though, Scott mentioned something about a vaccine. A cure. Suddenly, everyone and their mothers are down here, all for their own reasons... I can't see how this can get any worse, Scott had the know-how, and now he's gone...

Annette Parker lost track of time sat at the computer in the back of the late Dr Birkin's lab, there was a fair amount of information to scribble down on her handy jotter. One she always takes to work for quick notes or quick thoughts and ideas that often appear out of nowhere while on the job. On the ruled paper, all notes concerning Scott's health was plastered all over the first few pages; the rest were random doodles. The door slid open, and Claire shuffled in with what appeared to be Scott.

Annette Parker lost track of time sat at the computer in the back of the late Dr Birkin's lab, there was a fair amount of information to scribble down on her handy jotter. One she always takes to work for quick notes or quick thoughts and ideas that often appear out of nowhere while on the job. On the ruled paper, all notes concerning Scott's health was plastered all over the first few pages; the rest were random doodles. The door slid open, and Claire shuffled in with what appeared to be Scott.

"Claire," Parker called, "I'm in the back." Claire said nothing. "I hope this is the right laboratory. Not like there are any other P-4 labs."

Claire cried when the man threw her onto the floor in the middle of the lab and moved his sights onto Parker. That wasn't Scott. He looked ten years older. She raised her arms in surrender. "What's a child doing in my lab?" he said after leaving Claire's sights. She stared down trying to get up on her feet. She wasn't strong enough. The man's eyes focused on Parker with his handgun aimed at her face.

"Your lab? This is Dr Wesker's-"

"Silence!" he roared. "This is my facility now, and I demand to know what you're doing on THAT terminal."

"I got curious..." Parker stuttered. She didn't know the man, and she was easily timid when her life is threatened.

"Curiosity gets people killed, Officer. You should know that. Drop your gun, slowly, and step away from the terminal." Parker reached into her hip holster and dropped her Browning for the man to take. She dared not to move too quickly near it. He promptly ejected the magazine and discarded the handgun to the other side of the lab. He signalled her over and stood by Claire who was still hurting on the floor.

The man went to the terminal that Parker was on and started typing away on it. He seemed to be looking for something. Though he was focused on the screen, he kept her and Claire in the corner of his eye.

"Claire, are you alright?" Parker still had her hands up.

"I'll live."

"What's going on here and where's Scott?"

Claire inched her head towards the man at the computer. He wasn't peeking back. "The man behind the computer… He killed Scott. Then he shot me and brought me here." Parker's face sagged, her cute little eyes started to glisten with tears. Her eyes closed and her lips trembled. She couldn't cry, even if she wanted to.

"What does he want with us?" Parker sobbed lightly.

"I don't know," Claire sighed. "He wants a vaccine for some reason he won't tell me. All we can do is ride it out."

"It's all we can do. If he wanted to kill us, he would've by now. I'm assuming he caught you by surprise?"

Claire shrugged. "Scott and I finished talking. Then he killed him. Didn't even see him coming."

"Who is this guy?"

"Never mentioned a name."

"My police experience tells me that's not a horrible sign. If he informs us his name, the possibility of death would be high."

"Why would he need us?"

"Bait?"

"Or maybe a diversion for any sudden… complications."

"Claire, to be honest, without Scott, I'm scared."

"Me too Annette. I bet Scott knows this guy."

The man stepped from the computer with a small scrap piece of paper with some scribblings. He still had his Walther in his other hand. "Getting along, are we? You both appear to know each other quite well. Tell me. Why are two young women such as yourselves here of all time and places? You both cannot be down here for the same agenda."

Claire squinted and decided to try and challenged the man at wit. "Unless we get a name I'm not telling you anything you don't already know," she strained through her teeth. "We want a vaccine for Sherry, and that is IT."

"And to evacuate the city," Parker added. The man nodded with a straight grin; he understood that factor.

"Naturally," he said. "There is an escape train on the lowest level of the facility, eighth to be precise. BF8. If you have the key to the master elevator, you can get out of here easily."

"And who has the key?"

"The general manager of the facility."

"Birkin," Claire sighed.

"Yes. The monster ravaging the surrounding areas has the key for your evacuation. Pity… If you plan to leave, you'd be wise to find another means to reach the underground level."

"Our plan to leave?" Parker exclaimed. She rested her arms at her sides. "What about yours?"

"Aww. You shouldn't worry about me, Officer. I have a helicopter picking me up after I collect what I came for." The man walked to one of the larger machines in the corner in front of her. Looked like an over glorified mixer of sorts. He set his handgun aside and stared through the glass inside. "Good. Birkin always had a habit of misplacing these damned machines. Now if you both would be too kind to keep quiet while I work on this vaccine that would be great. Sooner I get the vaccine sooner we can vacate each other's lives."

The man ferociously made adjustments to the machine and then it was working. It hummed a deep tone, and he started to use the number pad on the side. His fingers danced quickly over the digits. He often looked back on the scrap paper. Must be instructions to use the machine or make a vaccine.

"Is there any particular reason you need us, sir? I am an officer of the law and I demand an answer." The man never spoke back, he internally focused between the paper and the machine, making tiny adjustments to something humming inside the machine.

"I require a vaccine sample to make a trade."

"You're after the G-virus, just like everyone else."

"Precisely." The man was making small adjustments to the large machine. He wasn't pleased but still carried on without any signs of giving up. "If you children brush up on your homework once in a while, as I do, you will find out some useful information regarding your ordeals. Mine being the fact my colleague has made a G-sample, and this is my only chance to obtain it before this city goes _really_ goes to hell."

"And you're planning to trade a G-vaccine for it I presume?"

"As I said, I did my homework. She cannot refuse me this time."

"She?"

"Mrs Birkin holds the very last sample in the facility, and I refuse to leave without it." The man took a small phial from the machine. It was only six inches long and contained a light teal liquid. He stared at it, smiling with pride. He'd often check back on his piece of paper before crushing it in his hands. Discarded it. "The DEVIL cure, the first and only of its kind."

"Will that save Sherry?"

The man scoffed and tucked the sample into his suit pocket. "That's for her mother to decide. Not you." The man took his gun from the side of the machine and aimed it at Parker, gesturing her with a nod. "Pick up your friend and let's go. I am finished here."

"Was it that easy to make?"

"Not usually, but the right notes can do wonders, milady. Once I make the trade, I will take my leave, and you can go about your merry business."

"Hooray," Parker sighed without any smile.

Parker brought Claire on her feet and assisted her walking, doing her best not to waste the man's time. He stood behind them with his handgun pointed at their backs. The left the lab first, and they were the first ones to be rudely greeted by another woman. Annette Birkin pointed her handgun at them, fury in her eyes.

"You killed William! You, and that ungrateful pup!" Annette roared. She pulled back her handgun's hammer and got ready to fire.

"Wait!"

"Tsk, tsk, tsk. Is this how you treat everyone, Annette?"

Annette's eyes widened. "Downing? What are you doing down here and why are you working with these two?"

The man that is Downing cackled. Loudly. "I'm afraid you mistake my current position. I'm only here for the same reason you are."

"You can't be. This is the only sample in the facility, and I'm NOT handing it to anyone." Annette redirected her aim for Downing. The barrel of her Browning hovered over his chest, between Claire and Parker's heads. "Not even our predecessor. This is the most significant piece of research my husband ever left in my hands." Without making any subtle movements, Claire peered to Annette's other hand, the one not holding a weapon next to her head. There was a phial in her hand containing a regal purple gel-like substance.

He tapped his chin and hummed. Thinking is what it sounded like. "Perish the very thought, Annette… But let's see if you feel that way after I make you an offer."

"What are you blabbering on about?"

Claire took a step forward. "Sherry's in serious trouble," she said, "William implanted her with his embryo. There's no telling when they'll pupate! And if that happens…"

"What!? No!" Annette withdrew her handgun and breathed heavily, almost hyperventilating.

"I have the DEVIL cure right here," said Downing. He took out the light teal phial from the inside of his jacket and waved it. It caught Annette's attention for a few seconds before he hid it away from view. "Interested in a little trade?" Annette said nothing. "I'll make it quick. Your daughter Sherry, or the G-virus?"

"You gotta be kidding me?" Annette blurted. "You made the DEVIL cure? Already?"

"I know my sources that go around in this facility. This little titbit was at the top of my list. Now we can truly see what's more important. Family or career."

"What makes you so sure I am incapable of saving my own daughter?"

"You must be fully aware of the famine that cursed our stock by now, Mrs Birkin." She never replied. That Joel Allman never made the delivery to tend to their chemical shortages. "The chemical APL-14 and SF-2 are a constant low, and I'm afraid I used up the scraps to make the first and only DEVIL cure."

"Do you want me to choose, Downing? Would that please you? To choose between my daughter and William's legacy?"

Downing groaned. "Intensely."

Annette growled and stepped back. She stared down at the floor and at the G-virus in her hand. She gripped it tightly. Everything the team worked on for years and years on end was finally finished and sat in her hands. All the bloodshed. All the misery. All the grief. It was all over. At what cost? Their employers sold them out, and the entire corporation is suddenly falling apart. All Annette had was whatever was left of her family. She decided to take a page from her colleague's diary and put her family first.

She walked further away into the three-way corridor and placed the G-virus sample right in the middle and left it there. She stepped back and stayed. Her handgun never wavered. It was fixed on Downing. "Hand me the DEVIL cure and take the fucking sample with you. I want you out of my sight."

"Pleasure doing business with you."

"Hurry up before I reconsider."

Downing walked through Claire and Parker over to Annette and reluctantly handed her the DEVIL cure. Their eyes locked. A glared full of hate and petty rivalry, something Claire felt when she glanced at Jill back in the early times of her relationship. Back then they both smiled, now only Downing was smiling. He backtracked over the G-virus and picked it up with a bigger smile. He beamed. Annette never budged after he handed her the vaccine, she still stared at him, making sure he doesn't stab her in the back.

"We'll probably never meet ever again, Annette. I'd say it would've been a pleasure, but that would mean I'd have to lie. Be a good mother and save your daughter, time is ticking." He chuckled and retreated quickly away from the others to the door at the end of the corridor. He kept his body at an angle so he could still see the others in the corner of his eye, you know, for safety.

She had it. She had it, and in a few minutes or even seconds, they'd save Sherry from the G-virus. All the hard work in it all may have been slightly ignored, but they were gonna save Sherry's life. Her life can resume. She can have her daughter back. Annette wanted to make sure.

"Hey!" Annette roared, a furious look on her face.

Downing turned. If the DEVIL cure - which no one ever created before - were legit, he would have no need to panic any further than he needs to. If it wasn't… Downing panicked and broke into a quick run. It wasn't a good sprint, though, at his age, it was swifter than most.

"It's a fake!" Annette shouted and bolted after Downing, with Claire and Parker calling after her to calm down. Annette fired her handgun several times at Downing, but they struck the door behind him. He was gone, and she cursed out of spite. She ran some more.

Something crashed through the ceiling in front of her, halting her pursuit. It was a large humanoid figure, one she believed to have been murdered by an ignorant pup. William. William shown no longer any fragments of his former humanity, he was too far in the mutation of G. He stood at eight feet in height with four muscular arms, armed with talons that could easily tear a person in half without hesitation.

Before Annette could respond to William's intrusion, he swung a set of his talons at her chest. The cavity was wide with her chest being cleaved without hesitation. Annette cried at the top of her lungs in an agonising plea for the pain to just end. Claire and Parker hid away around the corner then never left, they couldn't save her even if they tried.

After Annette's cries had died out, there was an unsettling amount of silence afterwards. William was gone. Claire and Parker stood over Annette, amazed at how she was still alive. She bled on the floor, and a pool started to form underneath her and their feet. "Annette," Claire sighed sadly.

"Hang on!" said Parker. She let go of Claire after she felt more confident to stand alone and let Parker sit Annette up. She grunted and was crocked up against the side of the wall.

"G is… growing even stronger," Annette strained through her aching jaw. Still sound but dying. Internal damage was a bitch. "If you don't stop this, Sherry will..." She suddenly was a loss for words. Looked like she struggled to breathe.

"Annette, that vaccine… Was it really a fake?"

"I don't know," Annette mumbled, admittedly. "No one's ever made one before, and no one knows what one looks like." She paused. "If it wasn't fake, why did Frederic run? One thing I do know is that man is not to be trusted."

"Frederic?" Parker required.

"That snake… Frederic Downing… He crept in William's shadow for years… ever since he took over his facility for G's research… Not the trustworthy type, so I had my suspicions... Parker and Claire, is it?"

"Yeah. Yeah, that's us."

"Take that vaccine." Claire turned her head to see the purple phial still sitting on the ground behind them. She walked over, picked it up as Annette handed Parker a sheet of paper and a small black key. There were some scribblings and detailed instructions on it. "And that. In the lockers in the P-4 lab are the ingredients to make the vaccine… Double check it… please. Do what you can to make it legit…"

"We'll handle it," Claire nodded. "Thank you, Annette."

"The key… The key will let you use the master elevator… to take you to the underground train out of the facility." Annette slid something off her wrist and put it into Parker's hand also. It was a rubber bracelet. "That wristband will start up the train on the bottom floor… Please… Help Sherry and get yourselves out of here. Tell her… I have always loved her." Annette's eyes shed tears. Tears of grief mixed with some sadness. "I always loved her… and wherever Scott is… I… I forgive him… and I trust him to finish… what I failed to accomplish as her mother… To love and support her… Sherry… Sherry..." Annette said something again, but it was so incomprehensible it sounded like a breath or a sigh, all of that stopped very soon. She fell on her side out of Parker's grasp. Dead. Dead in a small pool of blood.

"Annette!?" Claire sighed and shook her head. "What did she give you?"

"Apart from the key, it looks like schematics for the DEVIL cure."

"Let's see." Parker showed Claire the instruction sheet for her to observe. The final result of the DEVIL cure looked almost identical to the one in her hand. If that was the case, then that meant that Downing was true to his word and made a proper vaccine. Though why did he run if it was legit? It called for an extra pair of fresh eyes to give the vaccine one final look down. You know. In case Downing was a real snake.

The P.A. system came online; it was a dull female tone with a looping siren in the background. "The self-destruct system has been activated, repeat, the self-destruct system has been activated, this system may not be aborted!" she or it announced. "All employees proceed to the emergency cart at the bottom platform!" The system's P.A. went on a repetitive loop of a siren and the demand for employees to evacuate through the emergency cart.

"Who the hell activated the self-destruct system?"

"Downing!" Claire yelled. The snake shed his skin.

"One of us needs to check if the vaccine is good and proper."

"I'll get back to the lab and find out while you get back to Sherry." Parker was about to say something but hesitated. "What?"

"Good plan, but I think you should pick up Sherry, you're hurt."

"It's a flesh wound."

"Still… I think you should do the least amount of walking."

"I see your concern. Hmmm..." Claire's leg didn't hurt as much as time passed, though unlike Parker's health, she wouldn't break any marathon records anytime soon. She caved into the switched roles. "Fine. You check the validity in the vaccine, make one if you have to, I'll get Sherry and find this emergency cart on the bottom level."

"You better take this." Parker chucked the black master key Annette had given her. "You'll need it. Probably. Oh, and this." She put the rubber wristband over Claire's wrist. It had something orange embedded in it with the Roman numeral IV.

"I saw an elevator by the security room. There has to be a way down from there. Take this with you." Claire slung her M79 off her shoulders and hurled it into Parker's small hands. Then she handed her the six pack of yellow grenade shells.

"Thanks, I may need it."

"We'll regroup at the emergency cart. If not, outside the master elevator."

Parker smiled. "I hope we're lucky."

"Tell me about it," Claire sadly sighed. "Shame, we didn't realise how important Scott was until we really needed him."

"Yeah… Let's get going anyway..."


	2. Evac coordinates

_The Main Street was quiet. Safe too. The entire horde of zombies that roamed around on the street was nothing but rotting corpses now. No one missed them. Not Dorian Savage. Just more victims. For all he's concerned, fewer humans the better. The buildings on the sides of the road were mostly sat in rubble and buried with the occasional layer of rotten corpses of the undead. Not a bad place to land a U.S.S. chinook._

 _The horrible night of walking with the insufferable Richard James was finally coming to an end, one night escorting the least pleasant person was almost enough to drive him insane. Did he miss any of it? No._

 _The constant complaining about sleep, food and other things human require to function was the bane of his mission, one he would never pick on even the slowest of days. That's why humans are the weakest link. They need food, water, sleep, exercise and among other things, something to complain about._

 _Setting foot on the Main Street from the overhead bridge's walkway, Dorian almost shed a tear, to finally get rid of something he would describe as something as little as bothersome itch. Richard James proved to be an intolerable oaf that always finds a way to irritate the strongest of beings. The rear of the jet black chinook was open to receive him. Neither of the two could wait._

 _Leaning against the wall of the cockpit was Captain Rodriguez. A single long bench stretched tip to bottom on both sides of the aircraft, that's where the members of Delta Team were resting. All were awake and ready for anything, like true soldiers._

 _On the very end of the right bench by Rodriguez was a young man in a suit like Dorian's only less expensive and perfect. Tim Scam. He shared the same idea. At least he didn't have to escort him like Richard; Tim had bigger balls than that weakling._

 _Opposite Tim was Emmanuel Callahan of Echo Team, the seat next to him for his colleague Tristan Gallagher was empty. That was a bitter shame he didn't have the guts to survive, no more, no less. His morals were always in question, not a loss at all._

 _No one made a move when Dorian stepped in, he was the General of the entire Umbrella Secret Service, and no one even stood in his glory. Captain LUPO stood and made quick eye contact. He smiled and let Richard get comfortable in the back with Tim and Rodriguez._

 _The Frenchwoman, Captain Karena LUPO LesProux was a seasoned soldier with military experience and roots. Wolfpack treated her as their mother, the harsh one who accepts nothing less than perfection. Dorian could barely tolerate humans more than Wesker, and yet, he respected this wide variety of colourful characters._

 _She cared for her team as he does for himself. Derek Simmons abandoning them under Lord Spencer's orders was such a missed opportunity that is was almost unforgivable. Umbrella didn't deserve their service and loyalty. Neo-Umbrella will appreciate them more so in the future when the dirty deeds are done._

" _General Savage," she said in greeting. "It's great to see you." She almost smiled, but her strange blue gas mask made it hard to see her mouth. Her eyes looked quite gentle; she probably was smiling to some degree. On the inside at the very least because her tone of voice was welcoming._

" _It's good to see your team still among the living, Captain. How was your journey?"_

" _Awful, absolutely awful._ _It took_ _the entire night to get here in one piece, but it was all worth it. I'm still concerned on the matter of our mutiny."_

 _Dorian rubbed his chin. "Hmmm... In what way?"_

" _We can't simply leave Umbrella without some form of retaliation from them. We went AWOL; they won't let that slide."_

" _Who are they gonna_ _complain_ _to? Me? Master Romanov?_ _Lord Spencer?_ _Truth be told; they don't care."_

" _Not exactly reassuring."_

" _You demanded evacuation, and now you got it. Isn't that enough? W_ _hen Simmons hear that an exceptional team like Wolfpack has survived, he will understand my motives. You let me worry about Umbrella; they won't act without my confirmation."_

" _And what are your motives, sir? If you don't mind me asking."_

" _To see Umbrella in better hands._ _Y_ _ou are the type_ _of soldiers_ _I want to keep tabs on for future employment. I don't know what the hell Lord Spencer thought when he made the order to abandon your team." He extended his arm out and clenched his fist. "Everyone here will be suited to their strengths once Umbrella is overthrown. When Lord Spencer steps down, you fine people will step into the light under a new employer._ _We are all defectors now, even yours truly."_

" _That doesn't sound very well thought."_

" _Would you prefer the alternative? Abandoned by your employers and left for dead?"_

" _You raise a good point, sir."_

" _I always do. I don't know how long Master Romanov was planning this_ _hostile_ _takeover but if he didn't make plans to do so, everyone here, excluding me, would be dead along with the rest of this city. I think that's much better than the alternative. It's actually a good thing he let me in on the fold since I can mark everyone as KIA._ _That should help out for the time being."_

" _Will you be joining us for this evacuation?"_

 _He breathed a huge gust of air and flared his nose. Smiling. "We did our jobs. Nothing else to do now but wait." He sat on the very end of the bench by the open door. The benches used to be cluttered with U.S.S. uniforms and weapons but were set on the ground by the passenger's feet. There was room for everyone and then some._

 _Dorian got comfortable and stretched his legs. Nothing feels better than a job well done. Maybe a cigarette, so he took out his cigarette packet and picked a fresh cig. Umbrella manufactured the cigarettes so he can get them for free, along with any other drug he so chooses._

 _The type of junk that could fuel a sex party. After all, he still had his youth. Man needed to live, and it's been a while since his last party... With his dear Alexis on Rockfort Island, he was feeling a little lonely lately..._

 _Before he could get halfway on his lovely cigarette, Dorian got a call on his PDA It was from Master Romanov's youngest son, Sergei. He was the commander of the U.B.C.S., essentially a brother, one that's almost five times his age. He is respectively a general in his own right, yet still, officially an ex-colonel of the U.S.S.R. A rival he and the late Albert Wesker shared._

 _He was still in the area and messaged him some coordinates to meet up with him and Simmons. Was Simmons still in the city? It looks like his evacuation lies elsewhere. His P90 was still slung over his shoulder, and he felt like taking a walk._

 _The coordinates lead to Jack Street, behind that bar, Jack's Bar Dorian last recalled it. There was a business centre Umbrella often used for private meetings next to it. The chopper must be on the helipad waiting for him. Might be nice seeing Colonel Romanov and Mr Simmons again. Once everyone evacuates, the plans to overthrow Lord Spencer will arrive sooner and with a higher chance to succeed. Oh, joy._

 _Dorian stood back up and walked out, Captain LUPO tried to call him back, but he just saluted her in response and left. Richard was a thing of the past, and now it was time for his personal mission, to get to the chopper and wait for evacuation. That being the key word around town._

 _He still had plenty of ammunition and a thirst for more killings. Like a feral cat, Dorian leapt onto the chinook and then on top of the bridge's roof. His feet clamped perfectly still. Unmoving. The breeze felt nice ruffling through his hair. He discarded his cigarette and disappeared._


	3. Marcus is back in black

Claire passed through the monitor room and what she thought was area C, moving as fast as she could back to the duct. A large duct, twenty to thirty yards in length and a hundred or two in length, it was a long drop below. Three levels to be precise. BF5, 6 and 7. A monstrous plant had taken up a large portion of the duct, from top to bottom it fused with the entirety of the right side of the duct.

It must be one of Umbrella's T-viral plant experiments. Is nothing immune to their damned viruses? The monster plant was already unmoving. Someone killed it. The vines still thrived and stretched over the walls and smaller ducts. They fused and became one with the walls.

Coming down was a lot easier than going up, Claire would say. She and everyone else would agree. Then there was the fact she was held at gunpoint by Downing while she climbed down. Jerk. She struggled to climb, her leg wasn't that useless, just not up to speed. Her thigh wasn't bleeding for a while now, and when she picks up Sherry, she can find her revolver. Should still be there.

The west passage was a T-shaped corridor with red lights down low, at her ankles they illuminated the passage. The power was still on. The doors to the sleeping areas were locked, most likely from the other side of the door. A right turn leads to the main shaft, the actual heart of the facility, the one that keeps it powered. The central hub of all areas. It separated three sections of the facility. She turned right, and there was a ghost striding towards her. She felt a huge urge to smile.

"Scott!" she called happily.

Scott's expression never drifted away from his bored one. His eyes had a mean look in them; he wasn't wearing his spectacles, and his bullet wound was untreated. Claire was about to make contact with him, but before she could touch him with her open arms, she didn't notice his handgun was held out to greet her. She darted her eyes then suddenly a great pain shot through her. A 9mm round struck her in the right side of her stomach. Didn't hit anything important, she hoped, though she wasn't all right anymore. It hurt worse than the thigh.

Claire scrunched down against the wall behind her and pressed against her gut wound. Blood seeped through the gaps between her fingers. She whimpered and dropped to her knees, trying hard as she could to not cry. Tears escaped from her eyes. Scott shot her. Why? Why?! Was it an accident?! Does he care? He's just glaring at me…

"Scott…?" she whimpered. "It's me, Claire! W-Why did you shoot me…? Why?" Scott ignored her and simply walked past her to the door she came through. He must be going for the ladder to the P-4 lap. "Scott...?"

Scott stopped a few steps away from the door. He never looked back at her. "What did you call me?" he said clearly and strangled voice of emotion.

"Scott, please… Please don't leave..."

His sigh was long and heavy when he finally turned around to meet her eyes with his own. They were scary, not like his usual soft blue eyes. "My name is NOT Scott!" he growled somewhat in a restrained sort of way. He was building something up.

"Wh… What you are talking about…?" She breathed. "Scott I just… I just saw you die and… I wished you were still with me because-"

"Call me Scott one more time child and I will make your death slow." Claire zipped her mouth shut. The looks in his eyes were far too serious to take it as a gamble; something was seriously wrong with him. She didn't know how to respond to that remark. She let Scott say what he has to say for himself since his handgun's aim didn't waver.

Claire's life was still at risk. "I thought so… I confess this predicament is quite strange," he continued, "but it will not change the outcome. I have been given a new life, and I will do what I should have done nearly thirty years ago. I'm going to kill Spencer and destroy Umbrella! And you my child…" Now his aim slowly inched towards her face. She didn't budge, even though he looked like he was going to kill her. Looked like he didn't care and for a second neither did she. "You can tell your employers and that coward that I'm going to do him exactly what he did to my brother and the other founders... except slower."

Scott turned away and strolled off like a man on a mission. He left Claire to thrive a bit on the cold metal flooring to her thoughts, believing she was working for Umbrella to some degree. She never worked for Umbrella. She knew him, and he knew her, and more importantly, they both agreed Umbrella were the bad guys, and Scott wasn't one of them. Now he was suddenly one of them?

Claire pulled herself up on her feet again, biting against the pain of the lodged bullet she stood well under her weight. Thank God she was just tasked to a simple rendezvous. Running around with a bullet stuck in her stomach is a bit unhealthy.

"Scott..." He heard Claire's gentle voice and stopped. He reared his cheek to hear her better. She knew calling him Scott was going to get his attention, or another bullet, that was something to risk. To know what his angle was. His eyes were empty, yet still shined that gentle blue. So she asked, "Who are you?"

She saw a sinister smirk forming over his cheek, one that reminded her of a certain fatherly figure in sunglasses. The dead one. "Dr Marcus…" He moved on to the door, and before she knew it he was gone, along with wherever Scott used to be…

Was he Marcus? As in Doctor James Marcus? There must be a logical explanation for this relic to be commandeering Scott's likeness. There was limited time on her hands, the self-destruct alarm was still blaring, and she needed to get to the elevator with Sherry. And to top that off some first aid was in dire need. Parker… Parker was in the lab… She was in danger. No. She can take care of herself if she can't… No. Not only she is on par with her own abilities she is healthier, fitter and has police training. She can pass by 'Dr Marcus and reach the emergency cart. She has to…

Scott. No… Dr Marcus was in the BF5 monitor room at the wall of monitors. The brilliant man was typing away at a terminal hooked up to the wall of monitors, not all of them were functioning correctly, and some were just static. Eleven of the twenty-five monitors weren't opaque. One of the monitors were beeping with a flickering light coming off it, that was an incoming visual. Marcus' effort to turn off the self-destruct system was in vain, even as one of the company founders, he wasn't able to bypass the action without the facility's director's authorisation. Another reason to despise his ex-assistant.

The monitor's image was clear enough to see what was going on, very close in the middle row. An officer of the R.P.D. was seen three levels above him in the maintenance room. He was a nobody, like the woman on the upper level. Probably another spy, masquerading as another profession to deter awareness. As one of the founders he truly knew what Umbrella was capable of. Which is why he must be the one to destroy the corporation, and everything along with it. None of that will matter if he doesn't vacate the facility at once.

Parker came through the door to his left and smiled when they made eye contact. Another officer? He silently presumed. No doubt she will interact with me. She looked like she heard some bad news, appeared to look like she was openly trying to avoid a conversation. That didn't last long.

"Hello, Scott." Marcus never moved his body to dignify her presence. He reared his head to her only because he was mistaken for his despicable student. Again. The urge to let out all his ego was beyond description. "You're alive I see. I heard you were killed by some guy in a white suit I think it was Downing something. Glad that isn't true."

He decided to play a different game, as opposed to his usual prestigious attitude. Play out Scott's façade and tarnish his life and the very people who dare to know him. For vengeful purposes of course. "Ah, Frederic Downing," he mused, "that name takes me back…"

She folded her arms. "So you know him?"

"Unfortunately. That man was the previous general manager of the facility before my- Birkin's G-virus project required the facility's services." Damn it, mucked that up. Impersonate Scott; it's that simple. "He is not one to let grudges pass by."

"That's why he 'killed' you then, at least it wasn't fatal... I got some bad news… Annette's dead and Downing escaped with a G-virus sample."

He didn't care about any of that. Annette Birkin was a decent employee, and the chemistry between Downing, Wesker and Birkin brought many hours of amusement. In his third life, however, anyone who sides themselves with Umbrella will fall as hard as they do. The bigger the corporation, the harder the fall. He couldn't wait. "That is a problem for Umbrella, not us in particular."

"If G gets out it will be a problem for EVERYONE," she clarified with a sterner look. A look that didn't belong on her innocent, adolescent face. He hardly knew her qualities, that leaves him at a disadvantage. He didn't care for either of that nor her problem with G breaking out. It's about time humanity got what's coming to them, then the world will burn inferno of hate. At long last.

"That is true. We need to get out of here first though."

"Agreed Scott." He wished she wouldn't call him that. It raised his ire. "Let's." She quickly noticed one of the monitors were beeping. The screen with the R.P.D. officer on. Leon. Perceive moving object, the monitor displayed in bold red letters. Parker stood by him and watched the monitor as he did. Her mood was still quite bitter. "Leon's here. I hope Claire told him of our rendezvous. My radio is outta commission."

"Rendezvous?" He stared at Parker. "You all plan to meet at the emergency cart on the eighth basement level?"

"It's the only way out. I can cure Sherry, and we can leave this place using that cart."

"Excellent." He retained his focus back on the monitor. Leon was talking to a radio now. Parked assumed and hoped that was Claire because he nodded several times before leaving the camera's view. She moved away from the wall of monitors, and he was none the wiser.

"Is there any particular reason you shot Claire, Scott?" she said from behind him. He choked. His cover was critical. He needed his gun; it was just sat on the table by his hand and… it's gone.

She must've taken it, Marcus thought, Damn.

"Looking for this?" Marcus reared his head to see a good distance between them. Parker waved his handgun in her right hand. Her left hand was empty. He smirked.

"Indeed..."

"Listen. I don't know what's going on with you, but you're not well, Scott."

"Come on… What's exactly wrong with me? Please explain."

"You didn't care much when I told you Annette was killed and Downing escaped."

"What do you want me to say? Losing her was a shame and Downing was just a coward. Nothing more can be done."

"You're not wrong about that. Do you know who I am, Scott?"

"I'm sorry..."

"Not an answer." She raised her gun higher. Its sights were fixed on his neck. "You don't know me, do you Scott? Which means you ARE Dr Marcus."

He folded his arms and smiled. "Ingenious accusation, child. I suspected you were in cahoots with that woman upstairs but the more I thought about her, she does not exactly look like spy material, and neither do you. But you caught on pretty sharp; I figured you would be too naive to figure out my true identity. Would have succeeded too if that blasted woman didn't somehow blab."

"She radioed me and- wait… TRUE identity? You're SCOTT, not Dr Marcus."

"With my mind and memories intact, my favourite student is nothing more than a walking vessel for me to commandeer."

"Claire said I should kill you on sight..."

"What do you think? Would you really want to hurt Scott?"

"That's the thing. You're NOT Scott, you said it yourself. You're Marcus. The same Marcus behind the Ecliptic Express and Mansion Incident-"

"My reputation sees no bounds," he interrupted with a small egotistic wave. "My singing was the last thing those traitors heard beyond those hallowing trees. Arklay Mountains is a wonderful place to die, is it not?"

"You caused the death of over two hundred people and infected the forest!"

Marcus shrugged. "That was the monster Umbrella created out of me. Their hate and greed saw to that personally..."

"All the ones that survived the mansion had haunting nightmares for weeks! Including me and my best friend!"

"I care why? If you did not already know, the facility is nearing detonation, and you are stood there pointing out unnecessary exposition."

"I just thought I could talk to the man behind all this madness before I kill him."

"You should reconsider that motive. For two obvious reasons."

"Name them..."

"One. You need me to get out of the facility, and you know it, and two, that handgun isn't loaded."

"Nice try. You think I'm gonna fall for that? I've seen Mad Max."

"Go on then, shoot me," he challenged. He strutted closer to Parker, and she tried to fire. An empty click brought a bigger smile to him and a quick frown from her. She cursed and let the handgun drop. He moved in.

Parker reached for her handgun in her hip holster and drew it as fast as she could, but for a young man with the soul and mind of an old one, that one being an estranged psychopath, he was far too quick for her eyes to register as a threat. She failed quickly, and he grabbed her fragile wrist. She fired once, but it was too low. They were fighting over the gun over their heads. Being physically stronger, he twisted her wrist almost all the way around and then her body came in closer under the irritation in the wrist joint. She had to cave, or he'd snap it.

Marcus' elbow dug into her shoulder blade, and his foot took out her right leg. She fell and nearly headbutted the metal flooring and was disarmed. Turning her body around, she kicked the handgun out of his fingers, her toe just nipped the barrel and the handgun tumbled down to her knees after it bounced off the table that ran around the room. She scrambled to her feet and swept the handgun into her hands and took aim.

Felt it look cooler when she stayed on her knees with it in both hands instead of one. Marcus shot it clean from her hands with the one handgun she dropped. He stood over her with a loaded handgun at her head's level. How he tricked her and reloaded, it was something she needed to know.

"What a turning of events. Now your life is the one in danger."

"Is this how it all ends…?"

"You damned children and your arrogance. So prone to premature conclusions. If you can just hear me out, we might come to a compromise."

"What?" He holstered his Browning and offered his hand to her. She brushed it away harshly and pointed at him. "Why should I trust you?!"

"Because if either of us desires to leave the facility, we may have to consider working together."

Parker scoffed. "What makes you think I'm incapable of escaping on my own? It's no different than that mansion." Her head shrank. "The one we barely escaped…"

"The Spencer Mansion had a simple destruct system. This facility is a bit more elaborate. Every minute while the self-destruct system is active a section of the facility locks down from the lowest level. We do not have long until this level is locked down, trapping everything inside."

"Then how do we get out of here?"

"Luckily for you, I know a shortcut to the emergency cart on this level. If all else fails, we can always take the master elevator."

"That's why I need you but why do you need me?"

"You are taking a big risk asking me that, because I do not need you, I could kill you if I wanted to. The only reason I choose to let you live is the fact there is nothing of value in ending you, nor is letting you live. But you coming along for the journey would mean we will have a higher chance to survive, and if we want to end Umbrella, we need to survive."

"Your morals and actions cannot be trusted or even forgotten, Doctor."

"We will work on our methods in the future. We need to survive, and a little girl needs that vaccine of yours." He held out his open hand to her. She hesitated.

"You know about Sherry?"

"I saw what I needed on the monitors. Do your homework missy, and you will learn the basics of manipulation."

She got back up on her feet and collected her handgun at the ready. He did the same, though he was already stood up. "Lead the way, Doctor."

"We clearly do not trust each other otherwise you would be the one in front, I don't fancy being shot in the back again. Although I made it perfectly clear that you need me more than I need you so that I will oblige."

"You love hearing yourself talk. Don't you?"

"Believe me; I would be more vocal if I retained my actual voice and not this traitor's." He rubbed his throat and turned around to the door in front. "Necessary price to pay I suppose..."

The emergency cart was right outside the master elevator. It was a long orange train with three carriages, almost like a locomotive though it was on real railway tracks. The area was long as it was wide with a walkway in the back and another section where a similar emergency cart once sat. This was the last one. To sit down without any fear and see Parker pull through will all be too soon. The bullets afflicted by Marcus and Downing were treated before she carried Sherry to the elevator and she felt almost superb. Couldn't run very fast, though.

The door to the cart opened when she came in close. Inside it was empty, but the carriage was what you would expect a train to appear on the inside. A small set of seats both sides and the cockpit was just on the left. The door was closed, and it looked that there was no power. The lights everywhere were all dim, and most sections of the areas were just dark. Once Claire set Sherry down on the orange pull out seat opposite the door someone made contact.

"Claire, it's so good to see you're okay," Leon said as he came from the second carriage.

"You too Leon." She pressed down on her knee to get up and hugged Leon. One he wasn't expecting and one he paid back in kind.

"How's Sherry? Anyone got a vaccine?"

"Sherry's stable and Parker has the vaccine. Apparently, the one Downing made was legit. The bastard kept his word."

"Downing?"

"Some bastard that shot me, it's old history, so it doesn't matter. We'll meet again someday soon. I'll repay him then."

"I was gonna say. You look terrible."

She smiled. "Geez, thanks, Leon, every woman loves hearing that."

He rubbed the back of his neck and shrugged. "I'm sorry. It's just… when you called, you sounded dreadful and not being there to help… I just don't think straight."

"Well don't worry too much. I'm fine."

"You don't have to act tough for me, Claire. You can sit this one out with Sherry if you want. It's about time I pulled some of my weight around."

She shook her head. "I can still help."

"How about you figure out how to move the train, and I'll see what I can do about the power."

"I feel like this is just a way for you to dump me off."

He shrugged. "Just to keep you on the safe side."

She frowned. "Fine… I'll be in the cockpit if you need me." She turned away and went away. Leon called her, and she turned back around.

"Always great to see you."

"Same, Leon. With everything going on around here, I'm happy there are still good men like you around."

Leon departed and left the train shortly after. She stared at the floor and thought for herself. Zaac's gone, then Scott. Would Leon be next? Good guys die hard and fast with her around. That's a habit now. One she must deal with.


	4. Master and apprentice

Marcus and Parker just reached area C's cargo room. It turns out that Scott had a square MO disk that opened the large metal door to the room. In that room was a service elevator that heads straight down to BF8. The G-virus team all had the MO disk for an emergency shortcut. The room was large, and the ceiling was at least forty feet in height and over a hundred in length. Two large rows of culture tanks filled the room with a small walkway down the middle and sides. An elevator was at the end of the middle walkway. Marcus made it clear that the elevator takes some time to arrive. Nothing to do until it comes. Except for a peppy talk… Talking with a psychopath. Nice…

"Elevator will take us down to the cart?"

"Of course."

The elevator barely moved. There was a number for the elevator, and it was still on the first. Marcus made it clear that the elevator is slow. "Can this go any faster? It's still on the first floor, and this is the fifth."

"The elevator is only for the transportation of goods, child. It is not for people."

"You don't look much older than me, Doctor. You can at least address me as such."

"I have the mind of a senior citizen inside the young body of my least favourite student, as you can see I don't interact well with today's youth. I also divulge my life being ended by prepubescent children twice now already. Children are the bane of my existence, so excuse me for having that elderly charm."

"Must do with your infamy."

"I have a good reason to be the man I am today, child."

"Parker. Sergeant Annette Parker."

"Whatever." The elevator reached BF2 now. It dinged on arrival. Three dings to go. "You seem a bit young to be a sergeant." She didn't feel like responding. Maybe because she was in the presence of a brilliant madman, one that gave her and her bestie Rebecca nightmares. "That was an attempt at small talk..."

"Top of the class." Marcus said nothing for a long time. "I had a fantastic teacher."

"Same." She turned her head to his and paid attention to his face. He was frowning and wasn't wearing his glasses. They were in his shirt pocket. "People are only as good as the teachers that taught them."

"You're well-spoken for a man as infamous as you."

"You're too curious for a wide-eyed child… Parker." He stared back away and focused on the elevator. "I have my reasons for turning out this way..."

The elevator dinged at BF2. It was audible over the siren that still blared around the facility. "You mean you weren't always a monster?"

He chuckled lightly. "It's easy to perceive me as such. Has someone been reading you my diaries or something? Yes, yes, I experimented on nosy people for my own research… I'm a saint in comparison to Spencer. I at least tried to be good."

"Who's Spencer?"

"Do you know what's it's like starting a company with your closest friends, Parker? Friends I trusted, fought for… killed for… In education we all had a dream, to help our fellow man to live and not survive in the anguish of war. We had our own views to pursue our dreams, yet we all shared the same teachers, friends and even the same town. And for that dream to be a reality we had to hide our agendas behind Umbrella to exploit our greatest archaeological discovery. If people had to suffer for us to make the world a better place, then so be it, better to die to medical science than pointless wars…"

"How would Umbrella make the world a better place?"

"For a start, there's jobs, pharmaceuticals and political influence."

"The corporation was started just to cover up a virus study?"

"Correct, Umbrella was born to hide our experiments on the Progenitor virus. We needed silence from the outside world, money and time… The applications and power the virus had to help people were wasted once the mortal coils of our humanity was lost by greed." He frowned even more if it was possible. "Spencer killed my brother, our friends and even our fellow founders… if it was to control more of Umbrella or to make money, it was hard to pinpoint the reason. Those were the darkest times of our company. The way they were stabbed in the back… I...I couldn't care anymore. I just sought closure in my research and then I… I didn't care… It was just me and my life's work. Once Ashford's accidental death rocked up in 68, the casualties just started to pile up. Our dream turned into another big corporation filled with imbeciles trying to climb the ladder."

"Weren't there three founders?"

"Common misconception. While Oswell Spencer, Edward Ashford, Albert Wesker SENIOR and I were the public founders, there were, if fact, another with us. Earl Beardsley."

"Never heard of him."

"No one does... Unfortunately, we were all murdered by Spencer. Ashford in 1968, Wesker in 1970, and for the life of me, I cannot remember when Beardsley was murdered – his entire life was unknown. My time came recently two years ago, and again a few months back."

"Who was Wesker Senior?"

"Albert Wesker Senior. Did you know him?"

"I met a _Captain_ Albert Wesker of STARS, but not the senior you're describing."

"Shame. He was… a good man. Wanted to make a name for homself, only for history to forget him. Ironic."

"Was betrayal a regular problem?"

"Umbrella was all Spencer had. The founders all had their families, and even I enjoyed myself in my studies. Concerning friends, well… after the war, I kept in touch with an old German friend of mine." He chuckled and lost his frown. "She was a Nazi supporter when we first met, but after we got together she… changed. Even I had a wide selection of friends, friends that kept me happy… Spencer not so much..."

"You were in the war?" The elevator dinged again. The first ding she didn't care, but after the second she felt a bit more serene being around Marcus. He was a monster in his own right, but deep down, it almost felt like he wasn't always so bad.

"I was supposed to but I chose to pursue education. This woman, Bridgette, I met her somewhere in the late-thirties. We were both students and her German agriculture class was next to mine."

"I can't imagine what happened between you two."

"Then you're lucky, I don't intend to babble about my social life."

"The founders..."

"Spencer, Ashford and I went on a trip to New York and shortly after we met Wesker and Walker. We all became friends. We rolled into college and that's where we met Spencer's oldest friend Beardsley. Umbrella was born in the late sixties, and then it was all about making money. Especially to Spencer."

He stared back at Parker with a smile. She was still watching him drivel on. "After Ashford suddenly 'died'," he continued, "our company was in financial debt because he handled our money. At the time, Beardsley was nowhere to be seen or heard… Spencer wanted to sell out our company to our rival Verkraft, and when all the living founders - including myself - voted no, he took it personally. That's when he started cutting losses."

"Killing losses? Right?"

"Yeah." He frowned again and brushed his shoulder. "Just like that, I lost all my closest friends and my brother. I was saddened when I heard they were murdered by some unknown person at the time, but I just lost the reason to care about them. Once they died, the only thing I had left was my research and it was my whole world. I cared so little Spencer had no competition to nominate himself as company director. A position I could've taken from him."

"Did he sell out once he got what he wanted?"

"Surprisingly, he didn't. Spencer really wanted to sell Umbrella to keep it alive, but with all the people that voted against him were somehow killed by an apparent serial killer, we assumed he took control as our director to keep our company from falling apart."

"Umbrella employs the smartest people in America, how could no one find that suspicious?"

"I knew him too well; he wasn't that bad at the time… He never sold the company, so we didn't rule him as a suspect at the time. Once it all blew over, it was all for one and none for all. The aftermath."

"Apparently that guy is still alive."

"Sneakiest bastard I ever met. He shelled out and hired some lapdog named Samuel or whatever as his assistant while I demoted myself as a general manager. Hadn't seen him in years… I just shut up and tended my research and kept things under control while he sought out his own agenda. He was powerful enough to have his lackeys to do his dirty work while he worked his own way. Then by his order, they assassinated me by using Scott here as a scapegoat. I'm surprised I lasted as long as I did."

"Scott killed you?"

"Can you see why I'm so bitter now? I'm trapped in the body of a traitorous pup I once called my best student and every time I see my reflection all I see is the eyes of the bastard that killed me. Gives me a heart attack every time I cast an eye to my mere reflection. I taught him everything he knew, and this is how he repaid me?"

Parker turned to him. Offended. "Scott isn't a bastard."

"Isn't he? I was there in the delivery room, and I didn't see a ring on his mother's finger. All fairness, though, his mother Cassandra was a good colleague and an excellent wife. Honestly, a shame when she died. I never heard Albert cry like that..."

"This conversation is making me uncomfortable."

"We can just sit here in silence until the elevator arrives."

"How about you tell me how you tricked me back in that monitor room."

He folded his arms, and he still smiled. "During the war, I slept with a spy, and in the morning she held me at gunpoint. The weapon was an American model, and she didn't know how to handle it. I kept it unloaded while I hidden her handgun the night before and she was none the wiser. Never mess with an intellectual."

"Damn… If you weren't such a… horrible man… I'd appreciate your stories." The elevator dinged again. "Just one more to go..."

Something crashed down from the ceiling, tearing a large hole and sending bits of twisted metal in all directions. The ceiling's concrete started to crumble. Marcus and Parker dived and rolled out of harm's way from whatever crashed down with bits of ceiling metal. They were on their feet ready with their handguns already taking aim. It was William G-type.

It already evolved as its muscle mass is considerably thicker and covered more of the body. Toppling over ten feet in height, it had four muscular arms with crude talons on each meaty hand. Perfect for ripping and searing flesh. There were no more signs of his humanity left for the eyes to behold. It was clear that he wanted to do nothing but kill and his eyes were already set on Parker. It rose to his feet and stretched out its arms. It roared loudly at the top of its lungs.

"Five minutes until detonation!" the P.A. system blared.

"Holy shit… It's Birkin!"

"That's Birkin?" Birkin G-type read its head towards Marcus. "You really let yourself go… my apprentice..." Birkin G-type growled harshly and turned to him. He had its attention. Did he want it? "I always wanted to make you pay for stealing my research you selfish pup!" Birkin G-type stepped closer to him and growled louder. He stepped back. "It's only fair the apprentice surpasses the master, but I think it's about time you learned your place. Birkin, you're FIRED!"

Birkin G-type roared, far louder than before and picked up its pace. It chased Marcus away from Parker, and he retreated while he fired his Browning at it with wicked accuracy. His bullets grouped round at Birkin G-type's chest, and it slowed him down generously. Parker ran around the corner and decided to swap her weapons over. Her M79 should turn some heads. The first shell exploded in a glorious display of yellow corrosion all over Birkin G-type's back and shoulders. It hissed but still chased Marcus who was up against the back wall. He wasn't worried, his aim was good enough to hit the lump it called a head with focused firing.

"The master still has some tricks up his sleeve," Marcus sneered.

Marcus looked like he was trying to kite it away or lead drag it along and perform hit and run attacks on it. Birkin hated Marcus that much? Marcus at with it. He seemed to enjoy it for an old man. Must make him feel young again. She replaced the empty M79 with another yellow shell and fired again. The recoil of the launcher had some heft.

The second round detonated over its back again and its hiss was even louder. The force of it all pressed William G-type against the wall where Marcus was before he ran over to the other side of the room. It almost fell but held onto the walls and stared up at the ceiling above. The talons tore into the walls and gave it leverage to scale up the corner and shifted its weight around to launch itself across to the other side of the room, far and wide over the culture tanks. Parker had to start chasing them. Grudge fights are the worst…

Every second two shots from Marcus' handgun sent a ring to Parker's ears, the room projected sound to be amped more than it is usually. The frequent ringing meant William G-type was taking damage; more was merrier in the case for survival. Unlike Marcus though, William G-type showed no signs of slowing down as he can still leap and jump multiple body lengths. With thanks to its mutated agility, it can easily close the distance. It had to die ASAP. With a fresh 40mm shell loaded, Parker pursued it and Marcus and ran to the middle of the room and fired again.

A grenade shell whistled over Marcus' head and detonated on William G-type's chest; the corrosive acid melted everything nearby. The tanks and flooring were not safe. Some sizzled and fizzed away. William G-type's flesh blistered and bubbled while it melted away at an alarming rate. William G-type knelt down and gave Parker some time to stand by Marcus' side. With a quick reload and a nod, they stood ready for William G-type.

"You were never a good student, Birkin!" Marcus taunted.

William G-type dropped on all fours and rapidly morphed its body into a more canine shape. With the four limbs and two hind legs, it took the form of a mutated canine with a long back and merged the head at the top of its wide, gaping mouth, complete with many rows of teeth. It howled and spat everywhere with its vicious ferocity. Savage white bones, teeth or even spiked extended over its body. Limbs shifted, muscled bulged against its skin, and it mutated further into a dog-like form.

William G-type hopped back away from Parker and Marcus to get some distance. When it was sizeable enough, William G-type kicked its feet like a bull and then it was running. Sprinting. Galloping. It growled and swung its claws at the two, but the ducked under and ran forward while William G-type's momentum carried it on towards the door behind them.

"Albert was always better than you, Birkin!"

Marcus and Parker used their handguns to some effect but the hardest part was keeping William G-type in their sights, it leapt culture tank to another and alternated between them and the occasional wall. It was like hitting a flea with a BB gun. It gave the impression that William G-type was desperate and it had good reason to be, it knew it was losing. The two stayed in the middle of the room and fired their handguns at William G-type while it leapt across the room over the culture tanks and walls. It hissed before every leap.

Then William G-type landed between Parker and Marcus, a small shockwave that caved in the floor separated them to either side with Parker sent away to the service elevator and Marcus back towards the way they came. It swung each of its meaty arms at the two, launching Parker off her feet and whipping Marcus on his side. He rolled up quickly on his feet as it turned back to him. Marcus ran back towards the door and quickly reloaded his Browning from the get-go.

William G-type leapt again and fixed itself over the double doors, just missing Marcus and leaping onto the corner he was running to and dramatically cut him off. With the claws pressed into the walls, it clawed its way down to the ground and started chasing him again in the opposite direction. Marcus was tiring down now; he hadn't run for his life this badly since his scholar days, now doing it on the fly was just too demanding.

William G-type caught up and made contact. With the speed of a galloping mustang, William G-type swatted the side of Marcus' head with the back of its hand at the single or second time he reared his head behind. It took the opportunity and lashed out at his former mentor.

Spiralling out of control in mid-air, Marcus came down hard and heavy against the frame of one of the culture tanks. With the side of his right temple slamming down on the frame with the force of ten men, his howling ceased and fell silent. He rebounded off and fell on his back. It was so quick it didn't notice the barrel of Parker's loaded M79 and the gleam in her innocent eyes. One closed. Taking aim.

The sound of a hefty boom, a shell saturated William G-type's face mouth and teeth with corrosive chemical, the yellow explosion was truly glorious enough to leave it reeling on its hind legs like an injured pup. That's what most traitors like it deserved; it better learn that lesson and heel because she was on her last grenade.

William G-type backed away and roared, baring its wide open mouth. The worst sight was the rows of teeth dancing in a mocking rhythm. Its back arched over its back legs like a cat and soon enough it was coming at her at full speed. It lashed out its claw right at her and flew straight over her head from her ducking low and rolling down under it. William G-type had so much speed it clamped down on the floor and slid back around at her. Sparks flew off the metal and screeched like nails on a chalkboard. Parker scrambled up to her feet and fired her last shell as William G-type began to pounce.

The shell detonated not where she intended to aim, instead of William G-type's face it ruptured under its chin and underbelly, it was hard to tell them apart. William G-type flipped over in the air and plunged down hard on its back. It tumbled over on its belly and finally stopped rolling by the double doors. It struggled to get up on its feet with all the sulphuric acid melting away its muscle and flesh leaving blisters and third-degree burns, William G-type gurgled and collapsed under its weight. It started to melt and fizz away into a small pool of bloody purple blob of muck. It was sickly looking.

Parker almost felt like throwing up her lunch in her hands. She was stronger than that, so she just looked away, William G-type wasn't moving anymore, and unfortunately, neither was Marcus. Wait. Is he mumbling? Yes. He was still okay. The elevator arrived and dinged, right on time. But what now? Should she carry him? She lifted his arm; he was heavier than he looks. He mumbled louder and started to sit up.

"Doctor?" He mumbled louder and sat upright. She leant in closer and helped him to his feet. "You good?"

"I'm sorry…?" he said, almost a bit softer than his usual tone.

"Come on we need to go," she said, "the elevator's here."

"Oh my God! Who activated the self-destruct system? And what are we doing in the cargo room?"

"Doctor? Are you alright?"

He touched his head once, where he was shot, where he impacted the culture tank. He yelped. "What's this?! Did someone hit me or something? There's a lump and…" He looked at his bloody fingers. "Is that blood? I was talking to Claire, and now I'm suddenly here. Did someone hit me or something?"

"You don't remember?" He said nothing. "Scott?"

"Who else? What's going on, Annette? Where's Claire?"

She smiled. "Scott… You haven't been yourself lately."

"What? I don't remember anything only that I was with Claire and now I'm here."

"We'll explain later. Come on; we need to get to the emergency cart."

Parker and Marcus both made haste to the service elevator and boarded it quickly. Its descent was quicker than before, thank goodness for that. There was no way of telling how long was left until the facility capsized. Could be anything between ten seconds or three minutes at the very latest. One thing for sure, the siren would not stop blaring.


	5. No one gets left behind

The emergency cart was still. Parker was unaccounted for, and she had the vaccine. Sherry was stable, but there was no way of knowing when she was coming or going. Leon and Claire were in the cockpit of the cart, Claire's wounds have since healed since the scuffle she had with a certain estranged doctor. They waited, waited until the very last few seconds. A timer for the final countdown was ticking just under the hundred and fifty seconds mark. Just under halfway until the facility and everything in it is rubble.

They were thinking about bailing on the last twenty seconds or so. Claire found the controls to be easy to get started, it just needed to be switched on, which it already was, and a small push of a lever the car will begin to accelerate. There was a switch to open the double gate for the emergency tunnel, the one that was closed ahead. Everything was functioning, and all they had to do is hope that Parker gets to the cart in time with the vaccine so they can open it and follow through.

A rogue B.O.W. Tyrant was prowling around, it remained unaccounted for some time without any notice from Claire or Parker, probably because it mainly targeted Leon, for some strange reason. The trench coat wearing stalker was too persistent for his own good and accidentally lost its body parts in an explosion, courtesy of the late Ada Wong. Leon missed her too much to be sad, especially in front of Claire.

Only a few seconds below the two-minute mark left now until the whole place is destroyed. Two minutes until death. Just under two minutes before they bail on her. The carriage door slid open, and someone stepped in.

"Claire?" called Parker. No answer, she must be in the cockpit.

"Parker?" Claire said from the cockpit, only loud enough to go beyond the door. She and Leon were both in the cockpit.

"Good news! I got the vaccine and..." Claire and Leon quickly went down the little stairs from the cockpit to greet the new arrivals to the train. "Ah, good," she continued. "Leon made it." Parker smiled and forgot what she was going to say after that.

"Thank goodness; everyone's here..." Scott muttered, happily.

Claire stepped into Scott and threw a right hook to the side of his face, scraping his cheek and cracking against his nose. His nose crunched loudly and bled instantly, he howled and fell onto the seat next to the door. He rolled off the pull-out seat, moaning loudly and fell down on the floor. Leon wouldn't have that, he grabbed Scott by the collars, brought him up to his feet and threw him up against the back wall next to another door to the carriage behind. He was a few inches shorter than Scott while he pressed him against the back wall. He held Scott by the throat, and with his free hand, he pressed his VP70's barrel against his stomach.

"Nice to meet you too Officer," Scott grumbled.

"Leon, what are you doing?" Parker exclaimed.

"Parker, why didn't you kill him?" asked Claire. She wasn't exactly happy or merry to be alive in decent health.

"I… I tried, but he got the jump on me. Anyway, he's fine now, though; he's okay..."

Claire scoffed. "I let my guard down twice, and both times I got shot. Each bullet hurt more than the last, and I have a feeling third time's the charm."

"Please..."

Leon looked back. "What are you talking about?" Leon said. Scott tried to speak but his nose started to bleed more than usual, he failed to stop it with his hands; he just moaned instead. The blood seeped through his fingers. Leon tightened his grip on Scott's throat, and he moaned quiet enough for him to resume. "Is this Dr Marcus or not?"

"What the hell is everyone on about?" Scott mumbled. "There is a huge gap in my memory missing, and next thing I know is a punch to the face."

Claire mused. "Scott?"

"Who else could I be?" Claire and Parker silently stared at each other. "Claire, what happened between us earlier?"

"Let him go, Leon, we don't have time for this." Leon nodded, and his grip left Scott's throat. He took in mouthfuls of oxygen.

Scott huffed. "What's with all this Marcus talk?"

The P.A. system came back online. "One minute until detonation, repeat, one minute until detonation!" she or it blared loudly through the scattered megaphones. "All employees report to the emergency car on the bottom platform!"

"Fucking hell, forget it! Parker, give Sherry the vaccine. I'll get this train started."

With his conveniently placed med-pack attached to his belt, Scott placed an absorbent wool dressing to his nose. The bleeding stopped, though he was sure his nose was broken. He stood back up on his feet and met Leon halfway as he was about to go up the stairs to the cockpit. "We only have one minute!?" he shrieked. Claire went into the cockpit and Parker injected Sherry with the purple vaccine.

"Don't worry, Mr Scott. Claire has the general manager wristband, we're good to go."

"You have the… fucking hell, fuck it.." Scott said, still holding his nose, "Senior staff and above can get the train moving but the emergency gates need to be opened manually..."

"You're kidding..."

"Why would I kid right now?! The only way to let the cart go is for someone to stay behind and do it manually."

"That's not even any better."

"It's a bloody safety precaution." Claire and Parker joined the little circle that suddenly formed.

"I gave Sherry the shot," Parker announced.

"There's no way to get the double gates open!" Claire growled, almost panicking.

Leon frowned. "We might have a problem."

"Don't tell me there's no way out down here." Claire groaned. "Please, we only got forty seconds, and I can't deal with the stress right now..."

Leon sighed. "It's manual. Someone has to stay behind to do it manually."

Parker held her tongue and covered her mouth. Claire's head sagged. "Are you saying one of us has to stay behind?"

"Unfortunately." Scott pointed to his right, towards the direction of the door to the second carriage and waved his finger in a circular motion. "There's a control system on the platform that watches over the emergency train. On it, there's a lever that has to be manually held down to open the gates for the train to follow through. Someone has to hold it down." Silence consumed the air. Silence marked everyone's fear. This far in and someone has to get destroyed along with the entire facility.

Parker found her voice. Her tone was not a brave one. "So who's it gonna be? Who wants to stay?"

"Who wants to die more like," Claire corrected.

Everyone took some time to think clearly, but all of them knew there was no time for that if someone was going to take the chance to stand up and die for the others to escape it was now. Silence. Complete and utter silence. Scott's pocket watch timed at twenty-five seconds until the choice was void.

"I'll do it," Scott announced. "I'm staying..."

"No..."

"Claire, I did heinous things in my life I'm not proud of and this is the only way I can think of to repent for what I did."

"To die here, Scott?"

"You can't save everyone, Claire. It's time I take a page out of Zaac's book and do what he does best." Scott went to the door, and it slid open automatically.

"No one has to die… Do they?"

"If I got out of the city alive, I would just be judged and executed. Tell the world that I'm sorry and Sherry I…" He looked back, staring at the unconscious Sherry. She was looking better now. Good. "I love her."

"Scott wait!" Parker exclaimed, loudly, stopping Scott from departing away from the door. She kissed him on the lips, their eyes closed as their lips blessed their minds with bliss. He opened his eyes last and caught the first glimpse of her clenched fist making contact with him.

Parker threw a punch to Scott's gut, and his whole body jerked and contracted from the sudden loss of breath and strength. That was a punch she learned from his brother, a punch that can rob an attacker of his oxygen and temporarily weaken them. The blow came in close under Scott's ribcage. With him off balance, she threw him back into the train and ran out the door out of sight. Leon helped Scott get his bearings and Claire ran out after her.

"Annette!" Scott cried,"Noooooo!"

Parker was already on the platform above the last carriage of the emergency cart and stood at the controls. With a deep groan, the emergency gate separated from the middle and stretched to the sides of the dark tunnel. The train started to move at a dreadfully slow pace and gradually built up in speed. From a crawl to a walk. She was doing it! She's sacrificing herself!

"ANNETTE!" Claire called at the top of her voice. Her sad voice. Parker smiled and nodded in response.

"ONE LIFE TO SAVE A FEW OTHERS CLAIRE!" Parker called back, equally as loud though quite the opposite in emotion. She was happy for someone to die. To die unloved. To die a virgin. To die with her whole life ahead of her. If she was going to end her life this way, she decided to die as an officer of the R.P.D., to save those who can't save themselves. That's all she wanted, deep down, to make her friends and colleagues proud.

The train moved quickly now, and Claire still didn't board it. Parker saluted with her free hand. "I'LL SEND ZAAC YOUR REGARDS!"

Claire returned a salute back and finally boarded the train. The facility's walls and ceiling began to crumble; crumbs kicked up dust, dust kicked up some vibration on the ground. It was happening… The building wasn't holding, and the train just passed the gate. Parker let go and sighed with a big smile. She thought of Zaac and felt like crying but didn't because she felt like she didn't need to. Saved his girlfriend and his brother, plus a capable R.P.D. officer, in a way it almost felt like he owed her one.

"A good job is its own reward, thank you for teaching me that, Zaac."

Suddenly the ceiling above Parker cracked away and collapsed upon her. A large flat piece of sandstone covered around her like a blanket and flattened over her. The impact struck her head and killed her before she was stretched over the platform. The platform crashed down onto the tracks with more parts of the ceiling coming down, small series of explosions caused a chain reaction and increased in magnitude. The entire underground level was blasting away at the seams.

The emergency cart was going full speed, full autopilot at over a hundred miles per hour. Nearby explosive forces shook the cart violently; the mayhem knocked everyone to the floor. Claire and Leon held Sherry down under their bodies and Scott was still distraught over Parker's sacrifice. He stared at the ceiling, oblivious to the cart's shaking.

"Stay down!" Leon barked. The shockwaves of force abruptly ended as they got further out of range. The Research Facility must be destroyed now. Including Parker. "How's Sherry?"

"Still unconscious..." Claire answered.

Scott's facial expression never changed from his shocked and surprised one. "It will take some time," he clarified. Sherry groaned and moved her arms slightly.

"Claire? Where am I?"

Leon smiled. "Yes! The vaccine worked!"

Claire brushed Sherry's blonde hair. "I'm so glad you're okay." Scott sat up. He seemed to be his usual self; only he wasn't wearing his glasses.

"I'm glad someone made it."

"Thank you, everyone."

Leon stood up and walked towards the cockpit. "It's over now..."

"No," Claire stated. "I have to find my brother."

"Guess this is only the beginning." Leon stood at the controls, they were on autopilot, and there was still a lot of tunnel to be traversed. He decided not to touch anything. "Goodbye Ada," he said to himself, "You too Annette."


	6. William G-Type's end

The cart suddenly shook all over; then a warning siren blared throughout the carriages. "Fuck!" He left the cockpit. Claire was sat on the pull-out seat with Sherry resting on her lap. Scott leant up against the wall next to the door with his head tucked between his knees.

"Great...another siren. What's going on now?"

"Sounds like something might be going on back there," Scott mumbled from his folded arms. He stood up. "Guess I'll go check it out." He walked through the door to the second carriage, and the door behind him closed automatically and clicked.

The P.A. system came back online. Not she or it was just getting plain annoying. "Warning! Biohazardous outbreak imminent!" it blared, "The emergency system has been activated! This train will be detonated, repeat, this train will be detonated!"

"Ah, son of a bitch!"

Claire stepped to the door behind Scott and stared through the glass window. "What's happening!? The door won't open."

"The train is going to self-destruct now!"

"What?!"

"I'll be back. Keep an eye on Sherry."

Just after the empty carriage was the third and last one that held an assortment of wooden crates and other forms of cargo. There were no windows or any means to check what was going on, that was sight, but for sound, Scott could hear heavy footsteps on the roof. It ceased after the ceiling groaned loudly. A bloody tentacle pierced through the ceiling, followed by another one that brought a large piece of the metal crashing down.

"What the fuck?" Scott backed away and walked back where he came. The tentacles thrived in the air, sniffing Scott out. Two more tentacles burst through the ceiling. "Birkin's still alive? Fuck?!"

Scott ran back through the door into the second carriage. The outbreak was none other than the man of the hour himself William Birkin. It was still alive in another form of its evolution. Now William G-type was more of a gelatinous blob, a fleshy, discoloured blob of pure hatred and persistence. Its flesh was charred with a huge gaping mouth complete with rows of teeth. Two large eyes were seen on the back, though it still had a head above the mouth. The snapping mouth that either bellowed gurgled or snapped at its prey.

The massive B.O.W. used its thick tentacles to drag itself further into the carriage after Scott, he was back at the locked door to the main carriage, banging on the door. Ever so slowly it dragged its mass closer and closer by the few seconds. With the door locked there was no way to get past it.

"Warning! Warning!" the P.A. blared again. "The self-destruct system has been activated! Each train compartment will detonate sequentially!"

The carriages lit up in red with everyone swayed to the sudden arrival of Birkin and its complications to their survival and escape. Scott was banging on the door, screaming to get the door open, with William G-type right behind him Scott started to panic. Claire and Leon couldn't do anything; there was no way to open any of the doors open. They were all locked in.

"Claire! Leon!" Scott cried. "You got to get into the cockpit and stop the train!" Leon turned away and ran to the cockpit door and immediately had trouble getting it to budge. It was sealed shut.

"I can't! The door won't open!"

"What?!" Claire exclaimed. She peeked outside, and Scott was gone from sight. "Scott?!"

Sherry stood behind Claire with hands cupped on her chest. "Claire, what's going on?" she asked in her sweet little voice.

"Stay back sweetie." Sherry nodded and went over to Leon for safety.

William G-type smashed the carriage door down with its mass; the presence scared Sherry. It broke the door off the hinges and used the tentacles to squeeze itself through the door frame, tearing it open wider for its gargantuan size, then it ripped away the walls and pressed further. The tentacles' sharp talons slammed down on the floor just by Claire's feet. Her Colt S.A.A. was drawn at the time Leon's VP70 was.

"SHERRYYYYYY!" William G-type roared without any emotion. There was no humanity left behind it all.

"I knew that was Birkin! Scott, where are you?" Claire yelled loudly.

Crawling on the small series of ladder holds on the rooftop was Scott. He started hearing gunfire below him, and that stirred his suspicions. Staring back at his feet he was already tailed by more of William G-type's tentacles. They danced and waved in the air, couldn't find him well but that was far from the problem. "This is the part of the job where I consider changing back into retail."

Claire and Leon took some shots at William G-type's tentacles as they slithered closer to them and Sherry; she was its target. A small vent was just by the door to the cockpit, a small step to the left and it was just wide enough for a child of Sherry's size. The metal grate wasn't screwed on, just leant against the duct. Sherry crawled through.

"Sherry, what are you doing?" Leon asked quickly. He fired again at a closing tentacle. It exploded in purple ooze.

"We have to stop the train. Right? I can do it," Sherry said from the other side of the door. The cockpit was of her will now.

Claire looked back at Leon. "Where's she going?"

"The controls."

"Where does that leave us?"

William G-type showed no signs of slowing down and still moved his influence closer to the duo. In their retreat, Leon and Claire stepped over a railing on the floor that was different coloured than the rest of the floor. It was like a square utility hole, and it looked like it could be removed. Claire tore off the cover and heaved it at William G-type's mouth. He chewed it down, and it was gone. Claire saw the running tracks, passing by so fast it was almost like they weren't there. The duo nodded and squeezed through.

Sherry was at the controls and had no idea where to start. Keypads, illuminated buttons and levers were all unmarked. "Which one's the right switch?"

"Sherry!" Scott called from above. He had his head and arms through a hatch above.

"Scott?" The train shook and stumbled her and Scott. He barely caught his grip. "Ahhh!"

"The emergency stop button!" Scott pointed to a large red button not far away from the rest of the controls. "There!"

At a button press, the speed of the cart plummeted as the wheels firmly and abruptly refused to move. They screeched under the speed and weight combined; sparks shot from the rails. The momentum carried the train on before it slowly stopped to a halt. The sparks heated up the wheels to a boiling point. Everyone vacated the train safely and in an orderly fashion. Safe. Alive. Claire and Leon crawled from under the train out and back to Scott and Sherry in front of the cart.

From afar daylight was seen, it was nearly 10 am in the morning, only twenty minutes to go. Being stuck underground for the last few days nearly a week, Scott couldn't wait to feel the Sun rays on his tired body. He almost forgot what it was like to be outside.

"Finally, an exit," Scott sighed.

Leon and Claire quickly came over, both of them were hot and bothered. Cold sweat ran down their bare skin. "Everyone okay?"

"We just crawled under a train Leon. We're hardly okay." The cart's siren was still audible and remained restless. And worse yet, William G-type still years them; his mass became one with the cart. He was consuming it with his sheer weight. He lashed his tentacles out that all narrowly missed Scott and Sherry.

Scott moved himself and Sherry away from William G-type just past Leon and Claire. "He just won't quit!"

"No time to rest now," Claire bellowed. "Follow the light!"

"Run!"

Claire, Scott, Leon and Sherry all ran towards the exit; it was only eighty or seventy metres away, no match for a good sprint. Scott carried Sherry in his arms and was still able to overtake Claire; she was hurt so it wasn't fair, though she still ran fairly well for someone who got shot in the leg and stomach. A few steps left, and everyone was losing their breaths quick.

Scott took his eyes off the prize and checked his watch on the go. "Seven… seconds… to go! Gonna be a photo finish!"

William G-type was hot on their trail, he consumed the rest of the cart, and his tentacles reached out further. The timer struck 0000 in the cockpit, then a chain reaction of concentrated detonations erupted throughout the emergency cart. The cart and everything around it was destroyed into bits of rubble and meat. The tunnel suffered a cave-in.

On the sides of the tunnel, everyone was finally safe, a gout of kicked up dust and debris coughed up out the tunnel before it ceased at long last. Apart from that, they were granted with the beautiful sights of unspoiled hillsides and green grass that went on for a few miles at least. The carts tracks stretched for another mile at least that was out of sight beyond some rocky hills. Those tracks lead to a small settlement that was apparently outside the city. Raccoon Pier. That was another safe area, and the tracks lead directly to it as the main road also does.

Scott let Sherry down on her feet and sighed. "It's over… We're free." He rubbed his tired eyes that already had bags under them. "Finally outdoors."

"Where to now Scott?"

"Where else? Raccoon Pier. The tracks will take us there in an hour." Scott held Sherry's hand, and she held Claire's hand. Claire smiled and let her walk between her and Scott.

The four walked on the track for a few minutes and the day was still bright, almost really early morning bright. The birds were out, and there wasn't anyone or thing in sight. Complete loneliness is just what they needed after their constant fear of something jumping out of nowhere giving them the willies. Leon lagged behind with Sherry walking between Scott and Claire like they were her parents. Father to the left and mother to the right. She missed her birth parents, yeah, but she never did feel like she was beloved as much as she initially wanted as their daughter. The worst part was coming, though, breaking the bad news to her.

Claire stopped and knelt down to Sherry. "Sherry, there's something you need to know, about your mother." Sherry's eyes were already sad. She already knew, didn't want to, but she did. "She's… in a better place now." Sherry turned to Scott and hugged him around the waist and sobbed. Not full-on bawling but she sobbed as any child would do if they lost their parents. Scott patted her back and closed his eyes. He didn't have a hat to take off in respects, but he could remember the better times of working with Sherry's mother. Good times. Fun times.

"The vaccine that saved you," Claire continued, "it was from your mother. She loved you until the end."

"No! That's a lie," Sherry sobbed, "Mommy never loved me..."

"She had G in her hands. The fruit of your parent's work and legacy and she turned it down for the DEVIL cure. The vaccine… She gave everything away for the cure."

"Annette did what?" Scott automatically said, sharply.

"Parker helped make the vaccine, and her mother offered a trade."

"She chose family over work? I had her all wrong..." Sherry still sobbed while she heard it all. Still sobbed. Claire thought it was best never to mention that Downing made the vaccine and used it to honour Annette and Parker's memories. It was a wise choice. Scott knelt down to Sherry and hugged her in response. Claire joined in, and even Leon walked over. There wasn't any room, so he brushed her hair.

"Sherry, I know what it's like to lose someone you love," Scott said with Sherry mumbling in response. "My parents passed on when I was only five, and my younger brother was killed recently." Sherry mumbled again, and Claire did too, only it wasn't in acknowledgement. Claire just missed Zachary on a different level to Sherry. Scott let Sherry off him, and Claire followed after. "You must know..." He brushed her hair back and wiped away her tears that almost never ceased. "The pain doesn't last forever, and for every dark night, there's an even brighter day. Just got to take it one day at a time sweetie."

"How long did it take you to move on?" said Sherry almost perfectly without sobbing in the slightest.

"Not a day goes past when I don't miss her, I had my brothers around me to share the pain but in the end how much could someone love a mother in five years or less? It was only when I found Cindy and started a small family of my own..."

"Filled the void," Claire said to finish off Scott's sentence.

"Yeah… Yeah…"

Sherry looked like she was going to sob again. Her lip trembled. "But I have none of that."

"No, not yet you don't. I can't promise you everything, but I can promise you that I'll love and protect you as if you were my own. I really liked working with your parents, I don't have many friends, but they were good ones when they needed to be. Now their daughter needs someone more than ever, and in their honour, I'll do my job and support you."

"Me too," Claire stated. She was the first one to smile on this otherwise grim topic.

Scott stood and held Sherry's hand. "Let's get moving. The Raccoon Pier isn't too far." The four resumed walking on the tracks, not at a record pace only enough to enjoy the sunlight and the presence of others. Sherry went back to holding his and Claire's hands. "I love you, sweetie."

"I love you too, Scott," Sherry answered back, with a smile as big as his. This was what she longed for. The simple things.


	7. A new mission and end credits

_It was Thursday now, very close to five in the morning on October the first. The dead city was due to be nuked by order of the U.S. government. What better way to destroy a city? The night was dark, the clouds above were grey, and the only light was the fires below._

 _Dorian stood atop the building with his arms folded tightly for warmth and protection. Smiling, naturally. It was a bitter morning. The light wind brushed his short dark hair and ruffled his equally dark suit, there was some splatter of blood his beautiful suit, but that was expected when on the field. Zombies, rogue tyrants and even the occasional mercenary or civilians were the ones that paved the way to bloodshed._

 _His P90 was empty, he used all his stielhandgranates, and apart from his fists, which are considered weapons in several countries, he still had his handguns handy. The building was empty of all life and undead, though that never really changed much since the building was constructed. The building had nothing of value hidden away inside, just useless files and office cubicles. The relevant documents and evidence on Umbrella and their work were destroyed by order of Umbrella H.Q._

 _Zombies moaned several stories below, sounded worse at night only because of the fact zombies can lurk silently and pounce out of nowhere, that advantage was invalid this morning. Staying around in the daylight wasn't a forte of his; his preference was sticking to the shadows or walking at night where his perception was stronger than his prey's. This being a good time to operate. Even a single glare of light can damage his eyes to the point it hurts. The pain was invalid._

 _He was given the heads-up that a helicopter would be passing over the building just before it leaves the city, no directions or times were given, only a location. There will be a handful of V.I.P.s on board, including Simmons and Colonel Romanov and some cargo. Details only slowed him down. When the helicopter passed over the horizon, he waved his arms over his head, and they got closer._

 _No civil way to board as the pilot couldn't land due to the cargo it was carrying. The cargo was a large metal crate, similar to ones that freight trains would ship, very similar to the one Captain Rodriguez had chained to his chinook. He was the only sharp-dressed man in black, so the pilot levelled with him and set the bird to hover._

 _That's quite a fall, he thought to himself. No kidding. Seven stories high and a jump at least six metres in length, no human could possibly reach a fraction of that. Time was short. Dorian leapt over the gap. He caught a hold just under the rotor blades, above the door. Couldn't see through the glass, no, it was mirrored and had an armoured layer over the hull. Nice touch on a jet-black helicopter, for official V.I.P. use only. Couldn't open the door either, locked from the inside. Then it opened, and he took a seat in the back._

 _Fastening up in the back seat, Dorian stretched his legs again. It was over for him. The objective was complete. Simmons sat in his white suit; he had a briefcase tightly on his lap They smiled and acknowledged their acquaintance. In the cockpit behind Simmons was Colonel Sergei Romanov, Master Romanov's youngest son. He was the copilot. The pilot was what Dorian would call a faceless nobody in a mask and uniform, most likely a U.S.S. member._

 _The surprise hit him when the man buckled beside him was the fabled Brandon Bailey, an intelligent doctor with level 9 access and the same credentials on par with Dr Marcus. One of the very first men employed by Umbrella's founders, worked with them all closely, excluding Lord Spencer._

 _His age shown; he was on life support and had cables running from his nose and heart, he was as old as Dr Marcus to boot. He had a light blue suit to complement his grey hair that was strangely plentiful enough to be combed neatly, and his wrinkles over his face and cheeks were just faint reminders of his wasted youth._

 _Dorian wasn't informed why Dr Bailey was suddenly in the city after being underground for decades. Last Dorian heard he was still working in Africa. Simmons' briefcase had some light to shine on the fact._

" _You think I am reckless, don't you?" Sergei said while he slid his crudely shaped blade across his thumb and index fingertip. The blade was double-edged and was as long as a knife but not a sword. It drew faint blood, and he squeezed more flow. He does that far too often._

" _You stole the computer core from your own company," Bailey responded. His voice was oddly young for a man on life support and with cables running from his nose and left hand. He was holding a small device that controlled his blood levels. "I wouldn't exactly call that 'stable'."_

 _Sergei scoffed and looked out his side of the cockpit's window. "All the people who go down in history are never stable. Wouldn't you agree, Comrade Savage?"_

 _Dorian folded his arms. "Stability is so overrated. Where's the fun in it?"_

" _Couldn't argue_ _with_ _you, my friend," said Sergei. "You see Dr Bailey? This world is different than the one you left when you went underground."_

" _I don't waste time with my work, Colonel. Your father taught me that above anything else."_

" _That he did,_ _D_ _octor. Inside U.M.F.-013 is all the research data I need to safeguard Umbrella's future. With that," Sergei continued, looking back over, "Neo-Umbrella will rise from the ashes as its new successor."_

" _Neo-Umbrella?"_

" _Goodbyes are a sad thing are they not, Dr Bailey?" Sergei nodded to Simmons._

"General _, it's time..." Simmons said, finally. With a nod, the pilot pressed a button, and the door to Bailey's right slid open. The fast open outside air began to suck out that helicopter smell. "Dr Bailey, if Neo-Umbrella's secrecy is to be protected, we need to keep Lord Spencer's best interests at heart! And to do that we need to protect his life's work!" he shouted over the whooshing air. "The Stairway of the Sun's location must be kept secret."_

 _Bailey suspected nothing less than his old acquaintances. All Spencer had to show for his work was Umbrella, a corporation with good intentions that slowly drifted into one purpose. The studies and exploitation of the Progenitor virus. That's all he cared about and having level 9 clearance couldn't save Dr Bailey this time. He and the others knew too much._

" _You tell Spencer the founders will be waiting for him in hell!" Bailey called over the rushing air._

" _He had no preference how you are relieved of your duties, Doctor! But_ _on behalf_ _of Neo-Umbrella, I thank you for your services, and for that, I will make it quick for you!_ _General_ _!"_

 _Doctor Bailey glanced quickly at Dorian and instead of seeing the young man's face he stared down the barrel of his M93R. Then everything went black. A bullet to the forehead. Dorian stood up from his seat and unbuckled Bailey's seatbelt and kicked the old man out of the helicopter._

 _With a sturdy grasp on a handlebar, Dorian peered out of the copter while it soared through the air. They have just left the city limits, and he enjoyed a good show of watching a man fall out to his death. Double-death. He cackled loudly and relished the open air._

 _The door closed and Dorian sat back down where he was. Buckled in and had his leg up. "Was that really necessary, General?"_

" _Necessary?" Dorian smiled. "Absolutely. If it were up to me, I'd kick him out while he was still alive. Hearing him scream and shout while he plummets to his death would be a delicacy to my ears. Though, you_ _requested_ _to make it quick for him."_

" _You have no boundaries or respect for elders, do you?"_

" _When money talks, I listen."_

" _Even for those who educated you?"_

 _Dorian shrugged. "To refine a student requires taking the risk that one day they will surpass their mentors. They know what they sign up for, and it's natural selection when the time comes. Look at me for instance. I was taught everything I know in the field of combat by the likes of Wesker and the good colonel, the field of biology and virology by Birkin and Marcus… Most of them have since been killed. What evidence does that show?"_

" _Those are some choice of words, Comrade," Sergei said._

 _Simmons reared his head. "Indeed."_

" _I know… Disgusting, isn't it?" Dorian coughed and cleared his throat. "Can I kill_ _a few more people_ _to get the taste out of my mouth?"_

" _I think_ _you'_ _ll be happy with your next assignment." Simmons chortled with a small pat on his briefcase. He took out a small yellow folder and handed it to Dorian. It was opened, and he liked what he saw._

 _The black and white images were snapshots and photos of various members of the Ashford family stretching from several generations. The family tree started from the matriarch herself, the beautiful and intelligent Veronica Ashford of the mid 19th century._

 _The most recent ones were of the Ashford twins, Alexia and Alfred along with their estranged half-brother, _Claudandus_. Alexia was only twelve at the time of her death and Alfred has since lost most of his sanity since then. Technically, a black sheep of the litter along with _Claudandus_. Alfred was still commander of Rockfort Island and held a lot of weight within the company._

 _Images of Rockfort Island were in the folder, locations and entry points that can be used to infiltrate the facility. It was on the far coast of South America. Not too far from Raccoon's outskirts. It was an illegal prison facility with its own private military and even a training campsite for U.S.S. recruits. Dorian Savage, Hunk, Alexis Daemith and Divana Moore were the most noticeable combatants._

" _And what might this be?" Dorian asked._

" _Your next mission. Lord Spencer requires you steal a newly developed T-Veronica virus sample from the Ashfords. He has reason to believe that a rival company has taken an interest in the virus and also plans to steal it. You must steal a sample before they do."_

" _Would it have anything to do with Verkraft Industries?"_

 _Simmons shrugged. "There is no confirmation. The only information Umbrella has is that a private military force has been hired to acquire the T-Veronica virus. We've identified the group to be H.C.F. Since the virus is considered an asset, it rightfully belongs to Umbrella."_

 _ _Dorian rubbed his chin. "I have at least three good men on standby – shouldn't be a problem."__

 _"_ _ _We have the advantage of having a man on the inside."__

 _"_ _ _You're not talking about that__ _ _feeble oaf__ _ _Claudandus, are you?"__

 _"_ _ _Perhaps… Convince him it's his best interest to assist the company. Might provide you with some extra leeway during the mission."__

" _I expect him too, or else, I'll kill him."_

" _Your ruthlessness sees no bounds, General."_

" _Nothing personal, but the Ashfords come across as… extra baggage."_

 _Simmons smiled. "I'm sure you'll do what's necessary, General." He took out another yellow folder from his briefcase. Like the other one he handed. It was classified. "Master Romanov's grand plan requires every virus Umbrella had created and any other in further development. T-Veronica is no exception."_

" _Do you have another mission for me?"_

" _This one is not too important than the one in your hands but shouldn't be taken lightly." He delivered Dorian the other folder and closed his briefcase. "Take a look."_

 _On the opening, there were many biographies of different men and women of mixed ages and sizes. Dorian didn't know all of them but their names were written along with information about their last known whereabouts and dealings. All of them were Umbrella executives with level 9 and the higher level 10 clearance._

 _Dr Bailey was in there too; only he was dead so that executive was crossed out with a red X other his photo. Someone planned ahead. One executive held in isolation by Lord Spencer and another was personally tracked down by him and thoroughly killed by the old man. That's three already done and dusted and only eight to go._

" _Again Lord Spencer has another problem. We need to show our allegiance to Umbrella and to do that is the completion of these two missions. Like with the late Dr Bailey, all executives with level nine and ten clearance need to be eliminated."_

" _Where does that leave you? Are you safe or do I have to kill you too?"_

" _In another life maybe but rest assured I_ _a_ _m safe. After we deal with all the executives, the only person that will know of Stairway of the Sun's location will be the current living director."_

 _"It's Spencer's idea of a backup plan, Comrade. If all else fails, he can just start again. Judging from his health, he would be wise to pass on the torch before the flame dies out."_

 _"Tact of stepping down is mandatory for your father's plan."_

 _"At long last... His prized Soldat virus can finally be a reality."_

 _"Not until we meet the criteria. Spencer needs to go, at the end of the day, then the heirs will inherit the throne. History will repeat itself, only we'll learn from our past mistakes."_

 _Spencer has so much trust and confidence in Savage only because his needs are simple. The one who sustains his life has him on a tight leash, and in that case, it is and always will be the director. One act of disloyalty and he can easily cut off his life source. His important Progenitor virus. The director's word is LAW._

" _Oooooo, fun, fun, fun! I'll do that as soon as I can."_

" _All we have to do is keep the old man entertained and in good graces until his time is up."_

" _Hopefully that will be soon," Sergei said again. "The old man is seventy-five, and he is in no condition to carry on. I should kill him for what he has done to my_ _poor_ _brother Dimitri."_

" _He still has his uses. We cannot expose our plans with him still alive; he still has the power to assassinate us and foil our takeover." Simmons placed his briefcase by his feet and cupped his fingers over his lap. He smiled. "Umbrella will do everything they can to provide updates of the executives and their recent actions while you make preparations to infiltrate Rockfort Island."_

" _Ah, good._ _While_ _I infiltrate the island, Umbrella can dig up some information on the whereabouts of these executives."_

" _I'm sure you'll have fun_ _,_ _my friend," stated Sergei, almost fondly with a light chuckle. "You start tomorrow."_

" _Oh joy!" Dorian cheered. "This calls for a small celebration." He closed the yellow folders and set them down on the seat next to him. "If I don't get a good drink and a good bird to fuck I'm going to lose my mind. It felt like weeks since I had time off."_

" _There is a time and place for everything,_ _General,_ _" said Simmons as he raised his head and chin high, "and I'll make arrangements for that later."_

" _A good fuck and drink is all I ask… When I start tomorrow, heads are gonna roll." Dorian cackled loudly and took out his last cigarette from the pack inside his suit pocket. "_ _What happened here will change the world forever..."_

 **END CREDITS**

Scene: Claire Redfield holding a baby with Leon Kennedy standing in a doorway behind her.

CLAIRE REDFIELD (NARRATE)

Claire, with a baby to care for, put all of her free time into locating her brother Chris, despite Leon's protests. She couldn't believe Leon during the heated debates. Leon growled at her obsession of finding Chris. Claire couldn't waste any more time with the bickering when she finally walked away. She made plans to head into the wilderness, but eventually she needed to face Umbrella again as they were her only hope to seek the remnants of her brother's tracks.

Scene: Leon Kennedy standing at a desk in a small oval office.

LEON KENNEDY (NARRATE)

Leon Scott Kennedy was confronted by a man who claims to be a U.S. government agent. When he was invited into the agent's private office, there was talk of the orphan Birkin child. Leon urged the American government to leave her alone as she was innocent and merely a victim. After the quick assumption that the child knew too much, the topic shifted to Leon's way. The agent made remarks on how Leon had a promising future and exceptional combat skills, so then he gave Leon a good deal. Without regret or hesitation, Leon closed his eyes and sharply respond. Both men smiled and shook hands.

Scene: Sherry Birkin sat on her bed, crossed-legged and in her school uniform.

SHERRY BIRKIN (NARRATE)

When asked if Sherry had any relatives to take care of her, with tears in her eyes she could only say she had a guardian. That being her brotherly figure Scott Wesker. Sherry didn't respond much after that, since she had no more immediate relatives. Her parents died because of the G-virus, and her partial sister, Alexis was missing. And so, his little girl holds herself with her arms and bites her lip tight. The only thing that kept her from crying in the solitude of her room was hoping Claire would come back to her.

Scene: Scott Wesker sat in a single prison cell behind bars, complete in orange overalls.

SCOTT WESKER (NARRATE)

Scott's intentions might have been noble and pure, even he wasn't able to live with the nightmares the war crimes he committed. The words that haunted Scott every minute of every hour was what the judge said after his trial. Death by lethal injection. He was constantly reminded that his life was just as void as the countless thousands he inadvertently ended. To never see his son grow up, or make peace with himself were the worst parts of his imprisonment. A representative of the U.S. military stepped into Scott's cell and made an offer he couldn't refuse. Work for the U.S. government, or face the charges.

Scene: Dorian Savage sat at his desk with his feet up, smoking a cigar.

DORIAN SAVAGE (NARRATE)

Dorian Savage was given a small apartment to begin preparations for his second mission, a long one that could take a few years. There was no better way to increase the profit margin than some culling of the weak, something Dorian would always remind himself when asked to assassinate an individual. It's only business. If that was the case, what could be said when the targets were a few old executives that need to be silenced? After a tumbler of fine brandy Savage was out on the prowl again, but first, there was the problem with the Ashfords.

Scene: A picture of Frederic Downing shaking hands with William Birkin, both in fresh suits.

FREDERIC DOWNING (NARRATE)

Now, Frederic Downing had both the Golgotha and Tyrant virus; he was able to carry on with his research that was denied by his rival William Birkin. He searched out other pharmaceutical companies to assist him with his research, WilPharma was only the second option to Verkraft Industries. He made a private collect call to the director of the said company and was immediately passed through to a General Hasenbuhler. WilPharma lacked a certain vision that Verkraft did not, and that's when Frederic started negotiating.

Scene: Richard James in a standard vest standing next to a blackboard in a standard school setting.

RICHARD JAMES (NARRATE)

With nowhere to go, Richard had to sell himself to Neo-Umbrella but in the meantime had to work for a mediocre high school. Under their secret employment. Of course the principal was in on it too ass he was also under their employ. Richard James muttered to his new boss and kept to himself. He was handed his first project and side project on the same day. Progenitor virus was needed, and lots of it. The headmaster of Leafmore High allowed his research on campus.

Scene: Tim Scam cleaning the a counter in a plain store filled with junk.

TIMOTHY SCAM (NARRATE)

Having escaped the Patryk "Red Baron" Detrovski, Scam was able to live in the lap of luxury and under the good graces of Umbrella's Security Service. Being a quartermaster had its moments. Raccoon was gone and he since intended to move to Los Angeles, not without cashing out and doing business from safe house to safe house. As long as there was crime in the world he would never be out of business. Tim Scam was untouchable as long as he stayed in Umbrella's employment, WOOHP would never dare pursue him. Jerry didn't want him in custody that bad to risk the death of his best agents. Life was good for now.

 ** **THE END****


End file.
